


Rifle On My Shoulder, Dagger In My Hand

by m4jor3tt3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4jor3tt3/pseuds/m4jor3tt3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn has nightmares. Poe can relate. </p>
<p>(Title from Oscar Isaac's song "Hang Me, Oh Hang Me".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rifle On My Shoulder, Dagger In My Hand

_The sound of violence and the smell of death fills the air, and he's watching someone he can't remember the name of, someone with no real name at all, die in his arms as hey smear their blood across his helmet. There is fire blazing, villagers screaming, blasters-_

_And then he sees Rey, panic in her eyes as Kylo Ren approaches her, raising his saber above his head as she stumbles backwards. "Rey!" He tries to shout, but his voice is caught in his throat and the pain radiating through his back and into his bones is unbearable-_

When Finn wakes up, he's drenched in a cold sweat, his chest heaving. The dull ache in his muscles becomes apparent to him as he realizes the pain meds that were pumped into him just hours ago must have started to wear off. Nothing he couldn't handle, but uncomfortable nonetheless. He sits up, the thin blanket draped across him rumpled at his hips as he pulls his knees up to his chest and sighs.

"Bad dream?"

He startles at the voice and looks around the dark room.

He forgot the second bed in the dorm was occupied by Poe.

Poe is sitting with his back against the wall, his dark hair curling wildly and his eyes drooping. His hands are twisted in his lap as he slowly turns his head to look back at Finn, a crooked and kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I get 'em, too."

Finn doesn't know how to respond. He's not used to someone asking if he's alright. He's one of many. Expendable. Unimportant. At least he was, back when he was FN-2187. Before Poe named him. 

Poe Dameron, the cocky pilot with dopey eyes that didn't quite match his demeanor. Poe Dameron, the smooth talking Resistance member with the brightest grin. Poe Dameron, who always seemed to be ready with some form of physical contact- a handshake, a high five, a hug, his hands and arms always seemed to find someone. Poe Dameron, the man Finn had felt could do more, and needed to be out where he belonged, whether that be in an X-Wing or throwing himself between a Stormtrooper and a defenseless citizen.

When they first met, Finn saw a man who was strong and confident. A man who could take what he wanted and hold onto it for dear life. He was tortured by Kylo Ren and had been ready to die for his cause, to protect those who needed protecting. He had been a giant who gently nudged Finn in the right direction. And now, in the dim light of the Resistance base dorm room, he seemed so small. The large hands that gripped the controls in the X-Wing cockpit were now spindling and dainty, broad shoulders thinned out so much so that the off-white tank top and black sweats he wore as pajamas hung off of his delicate frame heavily, and his face. It was a tired face, drooping eyes, large curved nose, full lips. Each of his features seemed to pull downward, save for his jutting chin and sharp jaw. The man was all bone, and yet he seemed so soft and vulnerable. The light from the window illuminated each of his features, surrounding him in a halo that makes him big again. Finn blinks slowly.

"Do you need anything?" Poe asks, pulling Finn from his trance. Poe is standing from his bed before he gets a response, stretching his arms above his head. His tank top rides up, there is a scar up his side. He runs his hands through his bedraggled curls before placing them on his hips. "Finn?"

"Oh. No, I'm alright," Finn responds finally, his voice dry and scratchy. He clears his throat, and Poe's smile returns to his face. His smile, often times too large and gleaming, now seems reserved. He takes a few steps closer to Finn's bed and places a hand gently on his shoulder. His hands are warm. "Get some sleep." He says softly, squeezing his shoulder and shaking it gently before pulling back and padding out of the room. Finn blinks again, his eyes roaming over to the window briefly before lying back down.

*****

It starts out happening every other night, constant flashing images of explosions and corpses and fire and blood and fire and blood. And every time it happens, Finn startles awake, trembling and breathless. And every time it happens, Poe seems to already be awake. He never says much, often times he says nothing at all. Sometimes he claps Finn on the shoulder. Sometimes he runs a hand over his hair. Once, on a particularly bad night, where tears welled in Finn's eyes and he couldn't keep his hands steady enough to push the blankets off of his sweat soaked body, Poe had sat down beside him. He didn't say anything, he never said anything, but he urged Finn to look at him, one warm hand placed gingerly on the back of his neck. His eyes were like amber, a sun low in the sky. They stayed like that for a long moment, until Poe's hand slipped from the back of his neck to squeeze his shoulder. And then he was standing, quietly exiting the room, and Finn slowly willed himself to go back to sleep.

The nightmares become less frequent over time. Finn goes to physical therapy, Poe accompanies him. Occasionally, one of the doctors working with him will strike a nerve, a tender spot near his injury, and it's almost as though he completely shuts down. He remembers, in great detail, everything he's seen, heard, done. It all becomes very quiet; the doctors try to get him to work more, but he brushes them off with no words. Poe is the only one who stays behind, collecting Finn's belongings and keeping his distance until Finn's ready to speak again. Poe is always ready with a smile. In fact, it's his smile that Finn begins to think about in those times of stress- it isn't a perfect smile, by any means. His teeth are slightly crooked, his mouth stretches and is too big for his face. But that smile is often accompanied by a light joke and a hearty laugh, sounds that warm Finn to his core. And, at the end of the day, it's enough.

*****

One afternoon, it's too much. It's a hot and lazy day- Finn had just gotten back from a session of therapy, and Poe is in the dorm already, a book in his lap. He's wearing his flight suit, only it's drawn down and tied around his small waist, revealing an oil stained tank top underneath. The sun trickles in from the window, and Finn notices things that he never really paid attention to before: the golden color of his skin, the way his waving hair curled at the nape of his neck and was in desperate need of a trim (not that Finn was complaining), the gentle slope of his back. His shoulder blades protruded as though he had wings, and the smooth line of his figure always curved so delicately around whatever he was doing. His hands were scarred and bandaged. He glanced up, away from his book; a bead of sweat dripped off the end of his nose. He smiled, but not the large toothy grin so many others saw- it was that small, private smirk that Finn only seemed to spot when they were alone in this room. "How's it going, buddy?" His voice is soft and sweet, friendly but concerned. Finn rolls a shoulder and walks over to his bed. "Tired."

"Take a nap, then. I'll try to keep quiet." Poe winks, and Finn can't help a smile. He unlaces his boots as he sits down on the edge of his bed, and Poe's head slowly turns downwards to scan the pages of his book. As Finn pushes one boot off, his eyes trail up to Poe- the scars and burns decorating his forearms from working on ship after ship, the way his shoulders roll forward and his brow furrows slightly when he's concentrating. He's pulled his knees up slightly as he turns a page, then runs a hand through his hair, making a face at the hot dampness in his curls. He doesn't make any move to get up, though, no shifts in position to stand up and go have a shower, or even to shut the window. Finn bites his lip, then distracts himself with his other boot, then quickly lies down, back facing Poe. It's too hot to pull up the covers, but at the same time the heat is comforting, and easily lulls him to sleep.

_He's back on Jakku, the sound of blasters muffled in his helmet. He has his rifle positioned to shoot, but his finger had not pulled the trigger once. His vision had been slightly obstructed by the blood smeared across his visor, but he managed to find his way around the camp, aiming his gun with no plans to fire. He turns and sees a figure through the smoke and ash- it appears to be unarmed, it's hands balled into fists but trembling slightly and reaching for something at its side. He hears a voice behind him- "Shoot!" And, without thinking, he does. A shot emerges from his gun and sails right into the figure's stomach, causing it to stumble backward before ultimately falling to the ground. He quickly holsters his rifle and runs up to the figure on the ground-_

_Dark, curling hair. Long, hooked nose. Half-lidded and drooping eyes the color of a sun low in the sky. He drops to his knees and slides a hand beneath the man's head, pulling him up into his arms. The fingers of one hand trace over the wound, a perfect entry not quite in the middle of his chest. The man coughs, blood trickling down his chin, then looks up at him. Suddenly, he's not wearing his helmet. The fires are extinguished and everything is blurred with smoke. It's silent. The man reaches up, placing one shaking, bloodstained hand on the back of his neck. "Buddy?" He asks, voice soft. Finn is shaking his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he pulls Poe closer. He tries to apologize, say he didn't want to do it, say anything, but nothing can come out. Poe just smiles weakly, his hand warm on the back of Finn's neck before slowly slipping down to fall at his side-_

"Buddy?"

Finn's eyes shoot open and he's breathing heavily, eyes wet. Poe is kneeling in front of his bed, worried eyes locked on Finn's. His hand is on the back of his neck, rubbing soft circles into his overheated skin with his thumb. "You were tossing and turning and... talking," Poe says softly, eyes darting down to the floor for a moment. Finn scrambles to sit up, trying to catch his breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees Poe get to his feet and run a hand through his hair. He gently places a hand on Finn's shoulder before moving to walk out of the room like he'd done so many times before, but this time is different.

As his hand begins to slide off Finn's shoulder, Finn's hand shoots up and grips Poe's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. "Finn?" He asks, turning around to face him again.

"I killed you," Finn says quietly, his eyes focused on his lap. The pull he had on Poe's arm loosens as Poe moves to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. "I was on Jakku- we were on Jakku- you weren't attacking or anything and I-"

"Hey," Poe cuts him off, gently pulling his wrist from Finn's grasp before setting his hand down on top of Finn's. "It was just a dream. It's okay-"

"It isn't okay!" Finn snaps, pulling his hand back. "I was trained to be a killer- _born_ to be a killer. Who's to say that I won't go back to that? Go back to that and hurt someone- the general, Rey, _you_ -"

"Finn."

Finn stopped himself, a hand going up to brush the wetness of tears away from his cheek before looking over his shoulder at Poe. His eyes were down, and he was wringing his wrists. He closed his eyes for a moment before setting his hands in his lap with a sigh. "I have this... reoccurring dream about my mother- she was a resistance pilot, too. I'm in her ship, and she can't see me. She's giving orders to the rest of her squadron, and she just seems so... at peace. Then... then alarms start going off, she's flipping to other channels in the squadron but every line is dead. She's yelling for someone, anyone, trying to tell them she's been hit and she's about to go down, but...

"And then, just before the ship crashes, she's not there anymore, and... I'm the one flying. I'm trying to pull the ship up to lessen the impact, but it isn't my ship and I don't know how to fly it. I wake up right before I hit the ground. I think about that dream every time I climb in the cockpit. I think about everything that could go wrong while I'm in the air. I think about my mother...

"But the thing is, once I'm flying, it all goes away. It's just me and the ship and the sky. I feel safe. Someone talks to me through the headset, and I tell a joke, and it just feels right. I'm just like my mom in my dream- completely at peace."

He finally looks up at Finn, smiling slightly at him. "You're not going to somehow... turn bad. Everyone is safe, including you. You're not going to hurt anyone."

Finn swallows, blinking for a moment before leaning back to lie heavily against Poe's side. Poe winds an arm around him, careful to lie his arm lightly over his back. "Why do you want to help me?" Finn asks, his eyes down.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Poe responds.

They are quiet for a moment, Poe holding Finn close while he collected himself. "You're really afraid of hurting me?" Poe asks after a while, glancing over at Finn. Finn sits up, twisting his upper body to face him. "I'm terrified." He whispers, fear shining in his eyes. Poe's brow furrows sadly before he lifts a hand, gently brushing his fingers over Finn's cheek. His face relaxes, and he leans forward to press a soft kiss to Finn's forehead. When he pulls back, he's smiling, his hand still cupping Finn's face. Finn is wide eyed and speechless, but he reaches up to place a hand over Poe's. "Will you stay and... help me get back to sleep?" Finn asks quietly, locked onto his eyes. Poe smiles and nods.

"Of course, buddy."

And he lays back down, head not on the pillow but in Poe's lap. Poe shifts to sit with his back against the wall, one arm protectively draped over Finn's shoulder. His other hand pushes gently through Finn's hair. They're both quiet, and Poe looks up to watch the afternoon sky out the open window as Finn's breath evens out.


End file.
